Red December
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: SPOILER for season six! My imagination caught fire, thinking about a recent CBS announcement. A bit of a news tag, I suppose, about when secrets are no longer needed. Nothing racy here. One-shot. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist. I just like to dream here.


"This is it, Lisbon. Now we hunt him down."

Lisbon stared at him, still taking in what had just been revealed. The identity of Red John.

"Does he know? Jane, does he know- that we know who he is?"

"We have to assume, so, yes. But can we know for certain?" Jane thought a few seconds, staring at the skyline from the dirt-edged panes of his attic window, then slowly shook his head.

Lisbon walked to the open door and stood in the sunlight under a cloudless sky. She needed air and it wasn't coming fast enough. Finally, she bent over so that blood could flow to her head.

"Do you need a chair, Teresa?" He approached, bending down with her to see her face but he couldn't discern her condition through the curtain of hair, only sparkles of chestnut in the sunlight.

Still bent over, Lisbon shook her head. Jane was worried about her, using her first name like that. The light-headedness was passing and she stood straight again. "No. No, I'm fine. Must have forgot to breathe for a minute. It just hit me, that's all. We're in the end game now."

"So close. But a million things could still go wrong. We're no safer now than we were. In fact, if he knows we've learned his identity we're in more danger than ever. Maybe especially . . . you, Lisbon. You know that, right?"

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. Certainly. And not for the reasons we've been pretending. Not because you're the head of the team assigned to the Red John case."

Dropping her head to hide a blushing face, Lisbon's loose hair cascaded forward and hid her completely from Jane's scrutiny. "No?" She knew Red John thought they were in love with each other from what both Loralei and Sean Barlow had said. Neither had denied it. But neither had admitted it. It didn't exist in any open reality between them.

"We have to face some things. Some facts. Some . . . "

"Hard truths? Like, what if one of us dies?"

"Or both."

Lisbon stirred, putting her fingers in her pockets and scraping one foot on the balcony floor. She turned away from Jane. "I hope it would be me."

"Don't say that! It should be me! I brought this mess on everyone." The thought of Lisbon dying while he lived on brought bile to his throat, panic to his heart.

"Don't overdramatize, Jane. We had the Red John case before you ever showed up at CBI. Don't play the martyr here." If she sounded a little irritated, she didn't care. It frightened her when he talked that way, made her fear he'd do something foolish. Like maybe go off again on his own to spare the rest of them from danger. And then get himself killed. That's why she would wish herself dead first. A coward's death, so that she wouldn't have to face the rest of her life without him. Her thoughts were an icy blade right into her heart.

Jane hissed a sigh of pain and frustration. He'd never heard Lisbon wish her own death before, nothing even close. He was screwing this up! He cupped a hand around her forearm to turn her to face him. "There are things we aren't saying. Things that need to be said, Lisbon."

Merely turning her face to him, Lisbon looked sharply into his eyes. "Oh. Now you want to talk? It's too late now." She shook his hand from her arm.

The pain was still on him, screwing into his back and taking his breath. "I don't want you to die. Don't say such things."

"You do. You're thinking of going off on your own right now. Admit it."

"No! I mean, yes. I had the thought. But I made a promise to you, Lisbon. To be your partner. Haven't I been?"

Letting the truth of her words show in her face, Lisbon said simply, "Yes. You've kept your word. You've changed everything."

"And I'm not going anywhere, now. I want to finish my, my transformation, if you will. I want to tell you my secret."

Secrets. She was sick of them! But why now? What was he working himself up to? He was not looking at her. How bad could it be, beyond what she already knew about him. "Look at me!" Another lie? Please. No.

Jane did as she asked.

"Why now, Jane?"

"Because I'm ashamed."

Oh, God. She just couldn't deal with whatever this was right now. "Maybe this isn't the right time. I'm not a priest or whoever an atheist would feel they need to confess to—"

"Don't! Don't make it into something wrong, something shameful!"

"Jane. How could I? I don't even know what it is. You just said you were ashamed. What am I supposed to think?"

"No! You don't understand."

When Lisbon put her hand on his wrist, she felt Jane quaking even through his clothes. Sliding his arm through her fingers, he took her hand instead, pulling her closer but not touching in any other way.

"Oh my god. Jane, what is it?"

"I'm making a mess of this."

"I'm so confused. Can't you just tell me? Because now I'm getting scared. Why are you ashamed?"

"It's true. I've been using my secrets to control you."

"That's it? I know that. You even admitted it to me that day after visiting Sean Barlow."

"I've been trying to keep you safe. That's why I haven't told you. But I can't. We can't—"

"Out with it, Jane. Just out with it. Now." Enough crap. Whatever this was, the build up had to be worse.

Lisbon's eyes flew wide in shock as he looped both arms around her and pulled her close to his chest, hugging tight. Helplessly, she embraced him, offering what comfort she could but taking so much more from his life-giving gesture. His mouth was at her ear, whispering, but her heart was pounding so hard she couldn't concentrate on the words. It sounded like . . . something about—love. Pushing out of the embrace, she kept him close by gripping his upper arms. "What did you say?" Her expression was serious, her brow knitted.

Jane's face was red and lined with pain. Oh my god, she was angry. She was going to reject him. He had to make her understand. "I said—I said, 'I love you, Lisbon.' I didn't mean to. I tried not to. I knew you didn't want me to. Oh, god!"

Something akin to a sob, but without tears, broke from his throat. Lisbon recognized it as anguish, agony. He was in terrible pain! Over loving her. And trying to hide it, probably for years. Like her.

She shook his arms, made him look at her. "Jane. Jane! Patrick!"

His breath caught and hung in his chest when he heard his first name. He looked at her shining green eyes, full of light, smiling at him. And he breathed again, great gasping breaths as if he'd been under the sea for too long.

"Patrick. That has to be the best shameful secret I've ever heard." Lisbon put her arms around his chest and hugged as tight as she could. "Don't you know that I love you, too?"

She did love him! Patrick's smile was still grim. "Yes. I thought I did. But you never said . . . "

"Because you run me off like razor wire any time we get close! You've been very clear -"

"I know. I hid from you of my own choice, to keep you safe from Red John. But I made you hide, too. That's what I meant by controlling you. To keep my secret away from you. And to keep you from telling me yours. It was wrong. It confused everything. For years."

"It's confusing because we haven't talked about it. It's not confusing now. Is it?"

"No. You make my whole life make sense, Teresa."

She stroked the side of his face, caught in the stormy sea of his eyes, ran her hands over the silvery stubble mist that seemed to float on his cheeks and chin. "I love you," they spoke quietly together.

Then Patrick lowered his head to find her lips, brushing them with his own like sensing the delicate skin of a peach, not wanting to take that first bite because he knew he would not be able to stop until he had devoured it. But Teresa controlled the kiss, delicately bussing his mouth with suckling caresses, savoring every angle. Full on front, each corner, the upper, the lower. Letting them get used to this new sensation, this Patrick and Teresa sensation. Patrick didn't move or try to deepen it further, but met each gentle press or suckle in kind.

When she pulled away from the kiss, both felt satisfied, their questions answered, their promise sealed. It was enough, not too much for the tender emotional feelings native to each of the lovers. For although they were not yet lovers, they would be, already long mated to each other by bonds of the heart.


End file.
